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One Bread, One Body

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All Issues > Volume 30, Issue 1

<< Thursday, January 23, 2014 >>

1 Samuel 18:6-9; 19:1-7
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Psalm 56:2-3, 9-13

Mark 3:7-12
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JEALOUSY AND GOD

"Saul was jealous of David." —1 Samuel 18:9

Saul was jealous of David and tried to kill him on several occasions. The brothers of Joseph sold him into slavery because they were jealous of him (Acts 7:9, RNAB). The Jewish leaders in Pisidian Antioch "became very jealous" of St. Paul's powerful preaching and persecuted him (Acts 13:45). The Pharisees handed Jesus over out of jealousy to be crucified (Mt 27:18). The high priests and Sadducees arrested and punished the apostles, for they were "filled with jealousy" (Acts 5:17).

Jealousy in support of a religious leader or ministry is not of God. When some of Moses' loyal followers got upset that others were prophesying in addition to Moses, Moses corrected them, saying, "Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets!" (Nm 11:29) Are you attracted to certain religious leaders or ministries? Beware of any tendency toward jealousy. Pray that your love for that leader or that ministry be full of true charity, for "charity is not jealous" (Catechism, 1825; see 1 Cor 13:4).

Christians who exhibit any jealousy are infants, according to Scripture (1 Cor 3:1-3). Jealousy proceeds from the desires of the flesh (Gal 5:20) and is not compatible with Christian living. Jealousy is a symptom of something very wrong within us. "Where there [is] jealousy...there is also inconstancy and all kinds of vile behavior" (Jas 3:16). "Jealousy rots the bones" (Prv 14:30).

Prayer: Father, pour out your love in my heart (Rm 5:5). "May charity be the root and foundation of" my life (Eph 3:17).

Promise: "My wanderings You have counted; my tears are stored in Your flask; are they not recorded in Your book?" —Ps 56:9

Praise: Each year thousands of teenagers give up their time and energy to walk in the March for Life.

By the Babe Unborn

by G. K. Chesterton

If trees were tall and grasses short,
As in some crazy tale,
If here and there a sea were blue
Beyond the breaking pale,

If a fixed fire hung in the air
To warm me one day through,
If deep green hair grew on great hills,
I know what I should do.
In dark I lie; dreaming that there
Are great eyes cold or kind,
And twisted streets and silent doors,
And living men behind.

Let storm clouds come: better an hour,
And leave to weep and fight,
Than all the ages I have ruled
The empires of the night.

I think that if they gave me leave
Within the world to stand,
I would be good through all the day
I spent in fairyland.
They should not hear a word from me
Of selfishness or scorn,
If only I could find the door,
If only I were born.